


Focus On Me

by LipstickAndWhiskey (CopperMarigolds)



Category: Supernatural
Genre: Dean x Reader, F/M, Female Reader, Fluff, Fluff and Hurt/Comfort, Hurt/Comfort, POV Female Character, Panic Attacks, Piggyback Rides, Sam is a Sweetheart, but is barely even in this, but they aren't a couple here, detailed description of Dean's face, hints at Dean's feelings for reader, reader has a panic attack but Dean makes it okay, reader is totally into Dean too
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-05-09
Updated: 2016-05-09
Packaged: 2018-06-06 16:35:54
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,577
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/6761716
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/CopperMarigolds/pseuds/LipstickAndWhiskey
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>The reader has a panic attack in a crowd and the boys try to help her.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Focus On Me

**Author's Note:**

> !!!Contains a somewhat detailed description of a panic attack!!! Please read with caution if crowds are especially triggering.

You weren't sure exactly what it was that set you off. In all honesty, it was most likely a multitude of small things that seemed to add up. In all respects you were fine. You were walking through a crowd with Sam and Dean close by. There was no true danger, but your head just couldn’t convince your body of that. Crowds were okay, but when there were so many people so close you always hated it.

The longer you spent wading through the thick crowd, the more panicked you became. The fact that you were so short didn’t help matters. You felt as if a heavy weight was sitting on your chest and a rock sat in your stomach. Your breathing became more erratic and you felt like you could hardly catch your breath.

Looking forward, you saw the boys pushing through the crowd none too far ahead of you. If you could just get to Sam, he would understand. With the rising panic, you pushed to grab on to Sam through the throng. You got to the point where you were shoving at people, you were so scared. Finally snagging his shirtsleeve, you tugged hard trying to catch his attention. He turned, looking down at you with a curious expression before furrowing his brows at the look on your face. You just knew you looked so damn panicked like a cornered animal, but at the moment you could care less. You tugged at his sleeve again since the words, any words, were stuck in your throat with the panic. He bent at the waist, bringing his mouth to your ear asking “Are you okay?”

You took a second to actually think about it. Your brain was telling you that you were all right, but your body kept screaming as panic clawed at your chest. You shook your head 'no' violently as he pulled back to look at you. He nodded, then looked up scanning the room. “Dean!” he shouted, jerking his head to the side signaling his brother. Grabbing your hand, he pulled you close and led you through the crowd into a small alcove away from all the people.

Your hand held tight to his, tighter than you should have, but you could hardly focus enough to notice. Sam was incredibly concerned, your hand clenched in his and trembling like a leaf. He’d never seen you like this before- you were always so carefree. You let go of his hand, backing up against one of the walls with your palms flat against it. Sinking to the ground, you closed your eyes hoping that the feeling in your chest would subside. If you didn't know better, you would've said there was a wendigo in your chest. Footsteps approached and you assumed Dean finally caught up. Ignoring Sam, Dean crouched down to study your trembling frame. Your heart still felt like it was going a mile a minute, and when a hand came to rest on your shoulder you startled. Your eyes flew open and breath caught. He lifted his hand a little before settling it down again, firm against your shaking.

“Sweetheart, you ok? You’re trembling. What happened?” Dean looked so concerned and you felt so choked up that you couldn’t give a proper answer. The panic still clawed at you and Dean’s gaze made you feel awful for not being capable of giving a reply. You closed your eyes again hoping that his hand on your shoulder would ground you. Raising your hand, you clamped it down on top of Dean’s and gave him the best sort of answer you could. With a short shake of your head, you hoped he could understand. That he somehow _knew_ what what you were trying to say.

Dean’s other hand came up to your chest to rest above your heart, feeling it hammer against his palm. Your eyes opened again, taking in the green uncertain eyes watching you. “Just look at me, sweetheart. You’re okay. Ain’t nothing gonna get you while I’m here. I just need you to calm down. Can you do that for me?” he said, the calm and sureness of his voice already calming you. You nodded disjointedly, swallowing against the lump in your throat. Thankfully, it seemed to loosen the longer you looked at his face.

“Just keep looking at me. Focus on me, nothing else. It’s just you and me here.”

It helped that he was close, but not crowding you in. He was safe, solid, real, and something you could hold onto in the swirl of panic. You took the opportunity to look at him, to just look at him and not just the sum of all the parts. You looked at all the little things that made up Dean’s face. There were crinkles that framed his eyes from laughter that you hadn’t heard much of in awhile. Not to say that you didn’t try to at least get a chuckle out of him once and awhile. Across his nose was a smattering of freckles that you didn’t notice much day-to-day. On the rare occasion when he would get flustered, they would become so stark against his red cheeks.

His mouth was something different altogether, though. His plump lips framed straight white teeth. His nervousness was always plain when his tongue would dart out to wet his lips. That habit was always so distracting. He even had a few spare freckles along his lips and one incredibly special one on his lower lip.

Raking your eyes back up his face, you met his still worried gaze searching your face. Looking closely at his eyes though, was like a revelation. Green was far too simple a word to describe his eyes. It was a disservice to just call them _green_. They always seemed to shift with both his mood and the weather. Looking into them now though, they were a beautiful olive green. They had a brighter more vibrant green tingeing the edges with specks of amber. His eyes were _spectacular_.

A soft rumbling voice and a hand at the side of your face pulled you back to reality.

“ _Sweetheart?_ ”

Oh yeah. Dean. The mall. The _panic attack_. Your ass on the cold hard floor and Dean’s thumb brushing across your cheekbone. Oh. _Oh_.

“Hey, you with me?” He asked, hoping that whatever the hell he was doing was helping somehow. Taking a deep breath, your lungs feeling looser, you nod.

“Yeah. I’m here. I’m- yeah. Yes.” Your words come out just above a whisper, feather light.

Realizing your panic attack was over was always draining, since the adrenaline wore off. Embarrassment soon took over. It wasn’t helped by the fact that Dean was still thumbing at your cheekbone. You also had a death grip on his forearm- when he moved his hand and when you did yours, you had no idea. Startled at the tightness of the grip you had on him, you loosened it until it was lightly holding on to him instead. He looked at you with a softness in his eyes that made it hard for you to look anywhere but at him.

A cough sounded behind Dean, reminding you that Sam was still there.

“Hey, you okay? What happened? You looked white as a ghost a couple of minutes ago. I thought you were gonna hurl.” Sam said, stuffing his hands in his pockets trying not to crowd you in or embarrass you. If you were a bit more present, you would've laughed at the cliche _"white as a ghost"_ given your line of work.

“Panic attack. I couldn’t- I just-”. With a shuddering breath, you tried to clear your head, tried to make your brain spit out the words you wanted it to. “Crowds aren’t my thing. I don't- They're not-", you huffed as the words failed you. "I just- it’s never much of a problem, I promise.”

It wasn’t. You hunted on your own in small towns, and you only shopped at secondhand shops. The few times you had to be in a crowd were unpleasant, but over before it spiraled into a full-blown panic attack. Looking back at Dean, you realized how awful this would’ve been without him there.

“What do you say we find us a diner and get you fed? I’ll even buy you a cheeseburger,” Dean coaxed. He knew you wouldn’t turn down a burger anymore than he would. Problem was, how the hell were you going to get back through that crowd without clamming up again? It was almost like he knew what you were thinking.

“You can climb up on my back and I’ll piggyback you out of here. You’ll be taller than the crowd. Do you think that will work?” The weight on your chest was completely gone at that- he was just going to carry you out of there. This man was truly a blessing.

You cracked a small crooked smile at him. “You’re on, Winchester.”

His beaming smile at your answer cranked yours up into a wide grin, threatening to break your face in two. You clambered up onto his back, wrapping your arms around his neck and settling your head next to his. As he waded through the crowd, you couldn’t help but say something as Sam followed behind.

“Hey Dean?”

“Yeah?”

“Thank you,” you whispered into his ear.

“Anything for you, sweetheart. Anything,” he admitted as he walked, your smile hidden in his neck.

**Author's Note:**

> This is my first (published) fic ever! I deal with anxiety, and panic attacks are an unfortunate part of my life sometimes. This fic kept screaming at me to be written and it was honestly a sort of cleansing process for me.  
> Any ConCrit is welcome!
> 
> You can find me over on tumblr at [lipstickandwhiskey.tumblr.com](https://lipstickandwhiskey.tumblr.com)!


End file.
